


underneath the mistletoe

by straykid



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 4+1 Things, Christmas Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:11:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straykid/pseuds/straykid
Summary: The mistletoe appears on December 1st, sloppily taped to the ceiling of their kitchen. It’s hanging from a shoelace rather than actual string or traditional red ribbon, which is all one could expect to find in a home of nine boys.Or: four times mistletoe mysteriously appears around the Stray Kids dorm (and the kisses that follow), plus the one time they figure out how it got there.





	underneath the mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays to those celebrating!!!! i hope you all enjoy <3

**one.**

 

The mistletoe appears on December 1st, sloppily taped to the ceiling of their kitchen. It’s hanging from a shoelace rather than actual string or traditional red ribbon, which is all one could expect to find in a home of nine boys.

 

Changbin doesn’t notice it at first, stumbling straight to the kitchen from bed for his morning coffee fix. They’ve got an early schedule, and he lost a game of Rock Paper Scissors to be the first one who has to shower. It’s a well known fact that he is not a morning person; he’s useless until he gets a good caffeine rush in him. So really, given the ungodly hour, he can’t be held responsible for his lack of awareness.

 

Letting out a big yawn, he rocks onto his tiptoes so that he can rummage out a mug from the cupboard. When they first moved in together, they’d all tried to maintain things like their own personal mugs, but those boundaries don’t exist anymore. As is, he’s using a mug with “World’s Best Dad” printed in bold lettering—a gag gift that the kids bought Chan while they were in New York.

 

In a sleepy haze, Changbin goes about making his coffee. The instant stuff is never quite as good as an iced americano, but he’s desperate so it’ll have to suffice. He leans with his back against the counter, closing his eyes while he waits for the brew.

 

He’s just starting to doze off (he’s an idol, he can sleep _anywhere_ ) when he hears footsteps starting from down the hall. Blinking his eyes open, he can’t help but frown; it’s only half past five in the morning, so no one else should be up yet.

 

As the footsteps grow closer, Changbin hears something else; the telltale sound of Felix mumbling to himself in English. Despite the current circumstances, the corners of Changbin’s lips curve into a small, reluctant smile.

 

“Good morning hyung,” Felix says as he appears in the doorway, looking just as disgruntled as Changbin. His hair is sticking up in various directions, and his face is puffy in a way that gives him a baby face.

 

“Morning,” Changbin mumbles. “Why are you up so early?”

 

“Seungmin is snoring again.” Felix explains, his nose scrunching up. “It’s too loud in there.”

 

Changbin winces sympathetically. He’s was roommates with Seungmin for a few nights when they went abroad, and needless to say he was running off of little to know sleep during their time in Japan. “You should order some earplugs.”

 

“Maybe,” Felix sighs. “It’s not normally this bad though; I think it’s because he’s anxious about his upcoming exams.”

 

“Your probably right. He and Hyunjin have been studying hard,” Changbin agrees. It takes him back to his own experience taking the CSAT just a year prior, though it already feels like a lifetime ago.

 

Felix hums in agreement, peeking over Changbin’s shoulder. “Are you making coffee?”

 

“Yes,” Changbin pauses. “I probably have enough for two, if you ask nicely.”

 

“I’m not doing aegyo this early in the morning,” Felix deadpans.

 

“Fine,” Changbin grumbles. “But a ‘please’ would still be nice.”

 

With a resigned sigh, Felix meets Changbin’s eyes. “Can I _please_ have some coffee, hyung?”

 

“Look at you, learning good manners.” Changbin doesn’t even bother trying to suppress his smirk. “Sure. You can have some coffee.”

 

Felix sticks his tongue out in a childish manner, prompting a surprised laugh from Changbin. “You’re a strange kid.”

 

“Better strange than boring,” Felix responds, unbothered. Changbin is inclined to agree.

 

Turning back toward the pot of coffee, he’s pleased to find it ready to pour. He starts fixing his own cup first, deciding that Felix can wait a few extra minutes for his. No one, not even Felix, can come between him and his coffee this early in the morning.

 

“Uh, hyung?”

 

“I’ll get yours in a minute,” Changbin dismisses, stirring some a spoonful of sugar into his coffee. Felix doesn’t respond, so he stops, taking a moment to glance back at him over his shoulder and see what the problem is.

 

Wordlessly, Felix nods his head upward. Changbin follows his gaze toward the ceiling, confused until he spots the little bundle of green hanging there.

 

“When did that get there?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Felix says. “You didn’t notice it when you first came in?”

 

Changbin gives a helpless shrug, and Felix’s lips quirk. “That’s right. I forgot that you’re a real grinch until you have your coffee.”

 

“I’m not a _grinch,_ ” Changbin protests. “I’m talking to you nicely right now, aren’t I?”

 

“That’s because you love me the most,” Felix says, all matter-of-fact, and… Changbin really can’t deny that. It’s probably some moral crime to love one dongsaeng more than the others, but none of the other kids have freckles and sparkling eyes and a cute little accent like Felix.

 

“Whatever,” Changbin mumbles. Feeling the heat rise to his ears, he moves to turn back toward the counter, but Felix grabs his arm to stop him before he can.

 

“You know, Christmas traditions are really important.”

 

“Okay,” Changbin says slowly. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Felix sends him an incredulous look. “You’re standing underneath mistletoe right now, hyung.”

 

Instantly, Changbin’s eyes fly wide open. For the first time since forcing himself out of bed, he actually feels awake. “Mistletoe? That’s what that shit is?”

 

“Yes,” Felix doesn’t bother trying to hide his amusement. “What did you think it was?”

 

“I don’t know. You kids pull weird pranks sometimes, I thought it might have been grass.”

 

“That looks like grass to you?”

 

“It’s too early for this,” Changbin says in lue of a proper response. He attempts to tug his arm free of Felix’s grip, but (though he’ll never admit it out loud) Felix is just a bit stronger than him.

 

“We can’t break a Christmas tradition hyung. It’s bad karma.”

 

Changbin forces out a small laugh, though inwardly he can feel his panic building. “So what are you saying then?”

 

Using his free hand, Felix taps one dimpled cheek with a small grin. “Give me a kiss,” he says, mimicking what Changbin has done countless times before.

 

Changbin blanches. “You never want to kiss me,” he says, trying his best to play it off.

 

“You’ve never been underneath mistletoe before.”

 

“I have morning breath,” Changbin points out, flustered. “It’s nasty.”

 

Felix tugs his shoulders up into a small shrug. “I don’t mind.”

 

“Of course you don’t,” Changbin mutters to himself, shoulders slumping. Felix gives him a look of exaggerated offense.

 

“You’re really this opposes to kissing me?” Felix moves his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt.”

 

Changbin swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling far too dry. _If only he knew,_ he thinks. “I just don’t see why some mistletoe means that we suddenly have to kiss.”

 

“Because that’s how tradition works,” Felix says. “It doesn’t need to make sense; we just have to go along with it.”

 

At that Changbin goes silent, mainly because he has no point to refute it. They stand in silence for a few tense moments, and he can feel himself starting to physically sweat. Finally Felix presses his lips together, his grip on Changbin’s arm slowly loosening before he drops it completely.

 

“If you really don’t want to do it, you don’t have to,” he mumbles, cheeks tinted pink.

 

And fuck, Changbin didn’t mean to embarrass him. He just doesn’t want to embarrass himself either. “I want to kiss you,” he says quickly, his mouth moving ahead of his mind. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

 

“Then what’s the problem?”

 

 _So much,_ Changbin thinks, but doesn’t dare say it out loud.

 

Here’s the thing: Changbin and Felix have a unique relationship. It’s not like it’s a secret—they flirt and cuddle, and the members are always teasing them saying they should just get married already—but they’ve never outwardly spoke about it before. He has a hard time determining when Felix is just being his usual playful self, and when he really means it.

 

“You’re overthinking,” Felix says, forcing him out of his thoughts and back into the moment. “It’s just a kiss hyung.”

 

Changbin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. “Right.”

 

Felix lets out a small laugh, brows raised. “Are you really this nervous about it?”

 

“I’m not nervous,” Changbin quickly denies.

 

“Prove it then. Kiss me.”

 

In that moment, Changbin is left with two choices; run away with his tail between his legs, or muster up whatever courage he has and go through with it. Though his instincts are screaming for him to opt for the former, he instead squares his shoulders and takes a bold step forward.

 

For his part, Felix doesn’t waver. Instead, he merely asks, “Well?”

 

Changbin doesn’t hesitate anymore. He closes the distance between them all at once, until their lips finally meet.

 

Felix’s lips are soft just like everything else about him, but what surprises Changbin most is his confidence. He’s clearly got experience when it comes to kissing, and he’s not afraid to take control and prove that. Initially Changbin was only anticipating a quick peck, but he finds both of them melt into the kiss more easily than expected.

 

Eventually they part, both breathless and a little dazed. It’s a strange thing, to have suddenly experienced the moment he’s spent over a year imagining. Though the entire situation was unexpected, it’s definitely not unwelcome.

 

“We should get ready,” Felix murmurs, biting his bottom lip gently. It’s like he’s tempting Changbin—and knowing him, he probably is. “The others will be up soon.”

 

“You’re right,” Changbin agrees, but remains in his spot. Felix shakes his head at him, but the wide smile that breaks out onto his face betrays him.

 

(They wind up making out against the counter again anyways. It barely leaves Changbin with enough time for a five minute shower, but it was totally worth it.)

 

—

 

**two.**

 

In fairness, the members should have known better than to leave Jisung and Minho unsupervised while baking.

 

It all began with a comment from Seungmin about how nice it would be to have some Christmas cookies. Jisung had offered to help him bake them, to which Minho had insisted he would be the better choice. Quickly, the innocent holiday activity spiraled into a battle of pride between the two of them on who the better baker is.  (It’s definitely Jisung, but Minho will _never_ admit that.)

 

The others, wanting absolutely no part in any of this, had opted to go out for a meal while the remaining two attempted to bake the cookies.

 

Things had gotten off to a rocky start when Minho accidentally added two cups of salt instead of sugar to their first batch of dough, and only seemed to get worse from there. Their second attempt tasted far better than the first, but they ended up eating more than half of the dough before they could actually get it on the tray.

 

Somehow though, they managed to regroup. They only have ten cookies baking when the recipe said it would bake for twenty-four, and Minho is almost certain they forgot to use anti-stick spray, but they have something resembling cookies in the oven so he counts it as a win.

 

Minho can’t wait to rub it in the others doubtful faces.

 

To pass the time while the cookies are baking, they've been playing some random game together on Jisung’s phone. Minho’s still not entirely sure what the point is, but he’s found that pressing random areas of the screen seems to work well enough.

 

“Do you smell that?” Jisung asks, just as Minho approaches his high score. Minho makes a noncommittal noise, too absorbed in the game to truly listen. “Hyung. I’m serious.”

 

Minho ignores him once more. Vaguely he registers the sound of Jisung pushing himself away from the table and moving toward the oven, but he still doesn’t give it any real thought until Jisung speaks again.

 

“It’s on fire.”

 

“I know right? This is my best round yet, and I think we can get into the weekly ranking if you can get a good score next.”

 

“No, I mean the fucking tray is literally on fire,” Jisung says urgently.

 

Minho quickly turns around—Jisung’s phone clattering onto the table in the process—and sure enough, smoke is rapidly escaping from the now open oven. Fortunately there’s no real flame yet, but he has a feeling that won’t be true for long if they don’t do something. “Aish!”

 

He rushes forward, whipping the oven mit off the counter and shoving Jisung back out of the way. Grabbing ahold of the tray, he haphazardly tosses it into the sink, and frantically turns the faucet on. As water hits the tray, he takes a step back, watching until the smoke dissipates to nothing. Once it does, he lets out a heavy sigh of relief.

 

Crisis averted.

 

“I think it’ll be okay now. I didn’t see any flame, so the cookies must have just burned.” Minho tells Jisung, turning around to check on him. He’s surprised (and maybe a little bit amused) by the scene that greets him.

 

Jisung is standing on a chair, waving his sweatshirt in the direction of the smoke alarm to keep it from going off. He sends Minho a slight smile when he catches his gaze, letting out a sheepish laugh. “Would you believe me if I said this isn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened while I was in a kitchen?”

 

“Yes,” Minho says bluntly. Jisung tosses his sweatshirt at Minho’s head.

 

“Jerk.”

 

“I’m your hyung, you know. You’re supposed to have more respect for me than this,” Minho complains. He bunches the hoodie up and tucks it under one arm, using the other to gesture for Jisung to get down. “Come on.”

 

“What do you mean come on?”

 

“We can’t quit now. I was already bragging to Chan hyung about these being the best cookies ever. He’ll never let me live it down.”

 

“But we used up all of the ingredients,” Jisung points out, hopping down off the chair.

 

“Which is why we’re going to the store.” Minho says, tossing the hoodie back at him. “Put that on and let’s go.”

 

“You mean we’re going to try baking again?” Jisung throws a wary glance toward their charred cookies.

 

“That’s too much effort,” Minho dismisses, moving toward the sink. He shuts the faucet off, eyeing the burnt tray and it’s charred contents just to be sure there’s no more hazards. Luckily everything seems to be okay, save for their poor, burned cookies.

 

Jisung pulls the hoodie over his head, sending Minho a confused look. “If we’re not doing anymore baking, then why are we going to the store?”

 

“They sell plain, premade cookies,” Minho explains slowly. “They taste the same as anything we would make ourselves.”

 

“Are you saying that we should lie to the others?”

 

“I’m saying that what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

 

A wide grin suddenly appears on Jisung’s face. “You’re a genius.”

 

“I know,” Minho says smugly, glancing at the clock. “We need to get going if we want to pull this off though.”

 

The pair walk down the hallway toward the front door, while Minho further explains his plan. They’ll buy the premade cookies along with a tub of frosting and some new festive sprinkles to decorate them with. It’s a Christmas cookie fraud, but if it saves them from hearing an ‘I told you so’ from Chan and the others, it’s worth it.

 

As they slip their shoes on to head out, Minho catches a glimpse of something green hanging above them. Confused, he tips his head back to give it a good look. “Is that mistletoe?”

 

Jisung’s head snaps up, and his eyes squint as if that will help him see better. “I think so. Did you put it there?”

 

“Would I be asking you if I had put it there?” Minho retorts, reaching over to give him a flick on the arm. “Of course I didn't.”

 

“I wonder who did,” Jisung says. He seems to consider it for just a few more seconds, before giving a shrug and toeing his other shoe on.

 

Minho averts his gaze from the mistletoe to Jisung. “You know what it means, right?”

 

“What?”

 

“We have to kiss.”

 

“Oh.” Jisung’s expression turns thoughtful. “Okay.”

 

His nonchalance brings a smile onto Minho’s face. This is a prime example of why the two of them get along so well; if it were any other member standing beside him, Minho knows he would have been met with resistance. But with Jisung, their spontaneous energies just suit each other.

 

“Cool,” Minho loops his arms around Jisung’s waste, pulling him closer in one swift motion. “Pucker up.”

 

Jisung rolls his eyes, but nonetheless pulls an exaggerated kissy face at Minho—complete with the obnoxious sound and all. It pulls a started laugh from Minho, but does nothing to perturbe him.

 

Without hesitation Minho leans in, pressing a kiss to Jisung’s lips. It’s little more than a peck, but it’s long enough that he can feel the little but of stubble Jisung is currently sporting tickle his own chin.

 

Almost as quick as their lips connected Minho pulls back, already sporting a subtle smirk. “You need to shave,” he says, running the back of his hand down Jisung’s jawline. “We’re idols you know. You can’t walk around with a five o’clock shadow.”

 

He removes his hand just a moment later, stuffing it into the pocket of his coat instead. “Now come on. We have cookies to buy.”

 

—

 

**three.**

 

“Hyunjin hyung.”

 

Hyunjin groans, the sound muffled into his pillow. He swats blindly at whoever is daring to wake him up before his alarm, satisfied by the quiet yelp he hears upon contact. Without bothering to open his eyes, he rolls onto his side’ so that’s he’s facing the wall, situating himself comfortably once again.

 

It’s silent for a few peaceful moments, before the voice returns—this time accompanied by a force jostling Hyunjin’s shoulder.

 

“Hyung. Wake up.”

 

An instinctive scowl spreads across Hyunjin’s face. It’s a Saturday, their first one without any sort of work obligations in ages, and he’d been planning to seize the opportunity to sleep in for once. Between school, schedules, and the winter weather, he’s felt more lethargic than usual.

 

He lets out a frustrated noise, flopping onto his back with a huff. Turning his head, he snaps, “What the hell do yo–”

 

And then he cuts himself off, because kneeling beside his bed is Jeongin. Hyunjin’s expression instantly softens into something far more gentle. It’s an automatic response, one that only their youngest can manage to bring out of him.

 

“Jeonginie?” Hyunjin pushes himself into a half-seated position, bracing the weight of his upper body on his elbows. “What’s going on?”

 

“It’s snowing.” Jeongin whispers, his eyes shining even in the darkness of their bedroom. “The first snow of the year.”

 

If any other person had woken him up because of _snow,_ Hyunjin would have hit them; but this is Jeongin, and he can’t even be a little mad at him when he’s smiling like that.

 

“It is?” Hyunjin’s voice is still thick with sleep, his mind in slow motion, but he forces himself to sit up properly. “What time is it?”

 

“Two.” Jeongin at least has the decency to sound sheepish. “I know it’s late, but it’s the first snow of the year…” He trails off then, his voice taking on a wary tone that makes Hyunjin’s heart ache.

 

“Let’s go check it out,” Hyunjin says. Though he yearns to stay under the warmth and comfort of his covers, he peels them back and scoots to the edge of the bed. He toes on the pair of bunny slippers Seungmin gifted him for his birthday, and finally stands up.

 

“It looks really pretty,” Jeongin says, excitement returning to his voice. Hyunjin thinks any amount of sleep deprivation would be worth maintaining that brightness.

 

“The first snow usually is,” Hyunjin agrees, mindful to keep his voice low. “We have to be quiet though. Manager hyung and the others won’t be happy if we wake them up.”

 

Jeongin presses his lips together, nodding dutiful. Taking light steps, he carefully leads the way down the hall and into their living room, where the biggest windows in their dorms are located. When they’re safely away from their sleeping roommates, he rushes across the room, pressing his hands and nose against the glass much like a little kid would.

 

With a warm heart, Hyunjin trails after him, nudging him gently to the side so that they can both look out the center window together.

 

In fairness, Jeongin was right: the scene outside is gorgeous. There’s not much snow yet, but there’s enough to cover the streets in a blanket of white, all still undisturbed by footprints and tire tracks due to the late hour. Flurries continue to fall, illuminated by the yellow glow of streetlights.

 

Yet what captures Hyunjin’s attention the most is the look of pure awe on Jeongin’s face as he stares out at the world. He first catches it in the reflection of the glass, and when he looks over, he can feel his heart swell with love.

 

There’s a child-like gleam to Jeongin’s eyes, innocent and pure and gaslighting all of Hyunjin’s protective instincts. His lips are parted just slightly, the metal of his braces just peeking out. Though he’s grown a lot in height, their youngest is still so boyish.

 

Hyunjin can’t resist reaching up, playfully pinching one of Jeongin’s cheeks. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

 

Jeongin pulls a face, smacking at Hyunjin’s arm. “I’m not cute.”

 

“You denying it only makes you cuter.”

 

Jutting his bottom lip out into a pout, Jeongin narrows his eyes at him. “I’m almost nineteen now. I’m getting too old to be cute.”

 

“Whatever you say,” Hyunjin says, if only to appease him. He bring his hand up once more, ruffling Jeongin’s already messy hair. It earns him another whack, but he can only smile.

 

Eventually Jeongin turns back toward the glass, a near inaudible sigh escaping him. Hyunjin nudges him gently with his elbow. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No,” Jeongin offers him a weak smile. Hyunjin sends him a doubtful expression, to which he insists, “Nothing's wrong. I’m just a little tired.”

 

“Then why are you up this late?” Hyunjin asks. “You’re always the first one to go to bed.”

 

“I saw that the forecast was calling for snow so I decided to stay up.” As if on cue, Jeongin lets out a yawn. He brings his hands up, rubbing at his eyes with closed fists. “The first snow of the year is always the best one.”

 

“Is that right?”

 

“Mhmm,” Jeongin drops his hands back to his sides. “My grandfather used to say that it sets the mood for the rest of winter. If you take a moment to appreciate its beauty, the cold months will feel a little less harsh.”

 

“That’s a nice way of looking at it,” Hyunjin agrees. “Very poetic.”

 

Jeongin sends him a small smile, pressing his palms flat against the window once more. He doesn’t say anything more at the moment, the two of them simply savoring the view in silence.

 

Eventually Hyunjin leans forward too, so that his nose nearly touches the glass. He purposefully exhales so that his hot breath fogs up a bit of the glass, and uses his index finger to draw the outline of a heart. When he’s satisfied, he drops his head down onto Jeongin’s shoulder, leaning some of his weight against him too.

 

“Why are you like this?” Jeongin complains, but for once he makes no move to actually shove Hyunjin away.

 

“Is it a crime to love my dongsaeng now?” Hyunjin snakes his arm around Jeongin’s waist, wrapping him up in a side hug. “Hm? You’re too cool for hyung these days?”

 

“I’ve always been too cool for you.”

 

“This punk,” Hyunjin feigns offense. “Is this anyway to treat your favorite hyung?”

 

“Who says you’re my favorite hyung?” Jeongin counters. Hyunjin tilts his head forward so that he can meet his eyes.

 

“Of course I’m your favorite. You chose to wake me up instead of any of the others tonight.”

 

Jeongin helplessly opens and closes his mouth a few times, a comical sight that Hyunjin wishes he had the chance to record. It’s rare to see him so blatantly flustered, and somehow makes him look even cuter than usual.

 

Hyunjin is highly endeared.

 

“Don’t worry, I wont tell the others,” he teases, knocking their shoulders gently together. “Seungmin would probably sulk around for days.”

 

“That hyung is tiresome,” Jeongin groans playfully.

 

Hyunjin pats his shoulder sympathetically. “It’s only because he loves you a lot. We all do, you know.”

 

Jeongin’s expression sobers into something more serious. “I know.”

 

“Good.” Hyunjin knows he should probably be cringing at himself for suddenly being so sentimental and affectionate, but he just wants to make sure Jeongin knows how much he’s appreciated. Out of all the members, he worries about him the most because he’s an expert at masking his true feelings.

 

They settle into a comfortable silence, Jeongin still wrapped up in Hyunjin’s arms. He’s not sure how long they stay like that, simply enjoying the view and the company of one another, until a glint of something green in the windows reflection catches his eye. He studies it for a moment, and then raises his head off of Jeongin’s shoulder to look up toward the ceiling.

 

“I think there’s mistletoe above us.”

 

“Mistletoe?” Jeongin follows his gaze up, his eyes widening comically when he spots it. “Isn’t that the stuff people kiss under?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jeongin’s wary eyes meet Hyunjin’s. “What do we do?”

 

“Well it’s not like we have to kiss. It’s not going to bite us or anything.” Hyunjin offers him what he hopes is a soothing smile. “It’s just a silly tradition.”

 

“What if I want to?”

 

Hyunjin blinks, almost certain he misheard. “What?”

 

“I said, what if I want to kiss.” Jeongin shifts on his feet. “They do it a lot in the movies.”

 

“Have you ever even kissed someone before?” Hyunjin blurts. The question prompts an immediate blush from the youngest, his cheeks and ears turning a bright shade of red.

 

“Does it matter?” He asks, which is all the answer Hyunjin needs.

 

There’s a part of Hyunjin that wants to scream _yes,_ but he bites his tongue. Logically, he knows that Jeongin is eighteen—more than old enough to make his own decisions. If he wants to have his first kiss underneath the mistletoe, than it’s his job to respect that.

 

“I guess not,” he says at last, adding, “I’m down if you are.”

 

“Okay.” Jeongin swallows nervously, but straightens up his posture in an attempt to put forth a faux aura of confidence. “Let’s kiss then.”

 

Hyunjin presses his tongue against the back of his teeth as he turns toward him, taking a small step forward. He leans in slowly, giving Jeongin the chance to back out, and hesitates when their lips are all but an inch apart. Jeongin’s eyes meet his, and just to be certain, he asks, “You’re sure?”

 

Instead of responding, Jeongin surprises Hyunjin by leaning forward, connecting their lips. Initially Hyunjin finds himself frozen in place, still reeling from Jeongin’s sudden burst of confidence, but he soon finds himself relaxing into it.

 

The kiss is sweet, even if Jeongin’s lips are stiff from nerves and inexperience. It’s a conscious effort for Hyunjin to smother a fond smile, but he somehow manages.

 

It’s only when he attempts to break the kiss that things go south.

 

His bottom lip catches on one of the metal brackets of Jeongin’s braces, causing a small sting of pain. It’s nothing terrible, but he still lets out an instinctive his that seems to startle Jeongin. The younger boy quickly pulls back, his eyes blown wide with panic.

 

“Sorry! I’m so sorry, hyung. Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Hyunjin says calmly, even as the faint taste of copper fills his mouth. “It was nothing.”

 

“But you’re bleeding.”

 

Hyunjin gently touches his bottom lip with the tips of his fingers, pulling them back after a moment. There’s a small amount of blood as he’d been expecting, but nothing worth so much fuss and panic.

 

“I promise I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt,” Hyunjin assures. Jeongin clearly isn’t convinced, worriedly staring at Hyunjin with beet red ears and misty eyes. The poor boy seems mortified, and it physically pains him.

 

“This is nothing,” he continues, mainly because he can’t stand to see that pitiful expression on Jeongin’s face any longer. “One time, I tried making out with someone and accidentally headbutted them in the face. They got a massive nosebleed, and we couldn’t find any tissues so I had to give them my favorite sweatshirt to use for the blood… it was awful. And I never even got the sweatshirt back.”

 

Jeongin lets out a startled laugh, shaky but genuine nonetheless. “That really happened to you?”

 

“Unfortunately yes,” Hyunjin winces. “It’s not something I’ve shared with anyone before, so maybe you could keep it a secret?”

 

“I’ll keep yours if you keep mine.”

 

Finally, that smile Hyunjin loves so much reappears. “Deal.”

 

—

 

**four.**

 

“I think I have glitter up my nose.”

 

“In retrospect, I probably should have bought the metallic ornaments instead.” Chan sends Woojin a timid smile. “Sorry hyung.”

 

Woojin sneezes in response, holding the ornament in his hand out at arm's length. He narrows his eyes at the tiny object, before hanging it on one of the branches of the artificial Christmas tree in front of them. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

 

“Because we’re good hyungs, and I want to make it feel a little more festive for the kids.” Chan rubs his hand against his jeans, attempting to rid his fingertips of residual glitter. “It’s the first year most of them haven’t been able to get home for the holidays.”

 

Woojin hums quietly. Admittedly, he hadn’t considered the impact not being able to go home would have on their younger members. “I didn’t think about that. They’re probably feeling homesick.”

 

“The first year is the worst,” Chan says knowingly. “I just want to try and make it a little easier on them.”

 

Woojin pauses. “When’s the last time you were able to go home for Christmas?”

 

“Years ago. I think I was sixteen?” Chan shakes his head slightly. “It’s been ages.”

 

Not for the first time, Woojin feels pity for their leader. Chan has worked so hard to get where he is, sacrificing everything he has to fulfill his dream. It’s been a rough journey for all of them, but even more so for him.

 

“Tell me about Christmas in Australia,” he says eventually. “It must be really different from Christmas here.”

 

“It really is.” Chan lets out a small laugh. “It’s summer in Australia right now, so the weather is normally nice enough that we could go to the beach.”

 

“You went to the beach on Christmas?” Woojin asks, surprised.

 

“Almost every year,” Chan says. “It’s not the white Christmas that you guys get here, but it was nice in its own way.”

 

“Does it snow in Australia?” Woojin asks. Chan sends him an incredulous look.

 

“You’re joking, right?”

 

“Well it’s not that far from Japan,” Woojin defends. “Japan gets snow.”

 

“You’re telling me that you think Japan and Australia are that close to one another?” Chan laughs a real, hearty belly laugh. “What the hell?”

 

“Shut up,” Woojin groans, heat rising to his cheeks. “Geography wasn’t my best subject in school.”

 

“Evidently.” Chan sends him an amused grin. “It’s a good thing that you can sing.”

 

Woojin gives him a light whack against the back of his head. “Is this what I get for trying to have a nice talk with you?”

 

“It’s what you get for being dumb,” Chan retorts with another laugh, quickly stepping out of Woojin’s reach. “I’m kidding!”

 

“You deserve to be hit again,” Woojin grumbles, but there’s no real animosity behind the words. They’re both used to playing around with the often mannerless younger members.

 

Getting back to the task at hand, he grabs another ornament off of the table, this one covered in vibrant teal glitter. He places it on one of the higher branches he knows Chan won’t be able to reach, smiling triumphantly once it’s secured.

 

Turning back around, he finds Chan sitting on the couch opening up a new package of ornaments. He starts toward him, a witty comment about slacking off on the job on the tip of his tongue, when he notices the mistletoe hanging a few feet above his head.

 

Curiously, he asks, “When did you have time to put the mistletoe up?”

 

Chan looks up from the package in his hands, brows furrowing. “I didn’t put that up; I thought it was you.”

 

“It definitely wasn’t me.”

 

“Then I guess one of the others must have done it before they left for practice.”

 

“Or maybe one of Santa’s elves came and put it up while we were sleeping,” Woojin jokes as he walks over, joining Chan on the couch.

 

“So you think it was Changbin?”

 

Woojin barks out a laugh. “He’ll kill you if he hears that.”

 

“Good thing he’ll never know,” Chan winks. He pauses for a beat as Woojin leans back against the cushions, surveying him. “You realize we’re both under the mistletoe now? That means we’ve got to kiss.”

 

“I’m not kissing you. You’ve got kimchi breath.”

 

“I do not. I had a mint right after lunch,” Chan protests. Woojin still isn’t persuaded.

 

“How about just a kiss on the cheek?” He reasons, but Chan is unamused by that suggestion.

 

“If we’re going to do it at all, we might as well do it right.”

 

“This is too weird,” Woojin mutters.

 

“It doesn’t have to be weird. I see you naked almost everyday.”

 

“That’s what makes it weird.”

 

“Come on,” Chan elbows Woojin’s side. “We’re best friends, a little kiss is nothing.”

 

Woojin sighs. He’s recognizes Chan’s tone, and knows that he’s fighting a losing battle. It’s what the members have dubbed his _leader knows best_ voice, reserved for when he has an opinion and isn’t going to budge. He hasn’t heard it often, but the few times he has Chan has always gotten his way in the end.

 

“One kiss,” he says at last.

 

“One kiss,” Chan confirms.

 

“Fine.” Woojin twists so that he’s sitting sideways, facing Chan. “Let’s get this over with.”

 

Chan brings a hand up to Woojin’s face, swiping the pad of his thumb across his cheekbone. “You have glitter on your face.”

 

Once again, Woojin can feel himself blushing. He’s not normally this bashful, but he’s far outside of his comfort zone.

 

“Are we kissing or not?” He asks, the words coming out sharper than he had intended. With their faces so close together, he finds himself on edge. His stomach feels weird of all a sudden, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation taking over him.

 

He’s kissed people before, sure, but this is Chan. It’s different—special. There’s more pressure to be impressive.

 

Chuckling softly, Chan gently cups Woojin’s cheek. He locks eyes with him again, and leans in just a bit closer. “You sure you’re ready?”

 

“I swear I’ll kick you if you don–”

 

Before he can finish that thought, he’s interrupted by a pair of soft lips.

 

It’s a brief kiss, just a quick peck before Chan starts to pull back, but Woojin places a hand on his knee to stop him. He finds himself moving forward too, giving himself enough leverage to deepen the kiss.

 

There’s a small, nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him that this is a bad idea, encouraging him to consider the repercussions; but he doesn’t want to. He’s content in the moment, not thinking about any of this too hard, letting impulse and adrenaline lead him.

 

By the time they part, Woojin’s lips feel puffy and he can feel his heart racing.

 

“We should do that again sometime,” Chan says through heavy breaths, a lopsided grin painting his features. Woojin chucks one of the throw pillows at his stupidly handsome face.

 

—

 

**+1.**

 

On Christmas morning, eight members wake up to small wrapped boxes at the feet of their beds. Inside each sits a familiar bundle of mistletoe with a card attached.

 

_Merry Christmas. <3 Seungmin _

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated :)


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